


unconventional

by wuwu



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Adoption, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Other, david adopts max and everything is going to be Okay, more tags are gonna be added for the second chap, not shippy dw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-29 16:12:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12088617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wuwu/pseuds/wuwu
Summary: Max just wants somewhere to belong.





	unconventional

**Author's Note:**

> look i dont have chapter 2 yet bbut , im posting this anyway Like A Fool

Max wonders why he even bothers.

All of the paperwork, all of the court dates, all of the home studies. It’s stupid and annoying and too much work and he can’t even fathom why David would put himself through that hell.

(Why he would do it for _Max_ of all people.)

Sometimes, when his parents think he’s asleep, Max listens to their conversations. He hides behind doorways, knees pulled close to his chest as he listens to the familiar _crack_ of a beer being opened, or the telltale swishing of wine being emptied into a glass. His mother shows grief, sometimes. She wonders where her life went wrong—where she _messed up_. His father quells her worries, saying that things are better off this way. They never planned on having a child, and with someone actually _wanting_ to take care of him? It’s a dream come true. His mother agrees with hesitance.

He doesn’t listen for much longer. His chest is heavy, weighing him down and down and _down_ as he tries to stand. Max sways and his head bumps against the wall, so he just stands there as he regains his bearings.

Neither parent investigates the disruption, and Max doesn’t know if he’d even want them to.

 

* * *

 

 “Are you really sure?” David asks. His hands are folded in his lap, toying with that painfully bright bandana as he watches Max’s parents read over the document spread out before them. “This is… permanent.” He sounds unsure, and if he weren’t in such a professional setting Max would yell at him to quit being so indecisive. All of those months full of bullshit can’t just end here.

Max’s mom releases a breath before nodding, grabbing the pen that rests along the length of the stack of papers. There’s no apprehension in her movements, no lingering affections, and Max turns away as she signs without so much of a word. She passes the pen to his father, and through the corner of his eye, Max thinks he looks _relieved_ to be getting this over with.

His mother (?) looks down at him, conflict easily present in her eyes, but he doesn’t pay her any mind. He stares down at his shoes, watching his feet kick aimlessly, and he ignores the eager tapping of David’s own feet next to him.

The adults talk for a few moments, exchanging words with the man behind the desk. He reads excerpts from the documents, but the language is too convoluted for Max to keep up. He pulls at the strings of his sweater.

When they leave the building, Max hangs behind David. He stays a good three feet behind the man, and by doing so, keeps approximately ten feet behind his former parents. They signed his rights away, allowing David to take custody of him, and Max can’t tell if he should be pissed off or grateful. He chooses not to feel either. His eyes defocus as he trails behind his new guardian, steps slow and jaw slack as he forces all thoughts from his mind.

He doesn’t think about his parents as they get into their car.

He doesn’t think about his parents as they drive away.

He doesn’t think about his parents.

He doesn’t think.

 

* * *

 

It’s silent on the ride back to David’s place. There’s no music, no weird outdoorsy audiobook, no humming from the older man. The rolling of the tires is a constant as they travel across highway after highway, and the only unexpected rhythm available is the honking of horns from other drivers, but even that gets old after a while. David does nothing to ease the tension, and quite frankly, it pisses Max off.

To just pretend like all of this is okay feels fucking terrible.

They didn’t even say a proper goodbye. They didn’t say single word to him. They gathered their things, they strolled out of the building, and they’re not going to see Max ever again if he can help it. _Blood is thicker than water_. What bullshit. David might as well be an oasis at this point in time, and Max can only hope that he isn’t some sort of mirage as he traverses.

In his sleepy haze, Max realizes they’ve stopped at a gas station. David is wordless as he steps out, locking the doors before he shuts it and walks inside. He pulls his phone out as the doors slide open, fingers rapidly tapping the screen.

This is the chance he’s always wanted. The keys are still in the ignition, David is inside the building, he’s all alone. He can hop the seat and drive out of there. He can go as far as his nonexistent driving skills will take him and he’ll make the best of it. He doesn’t have to stay here.

But he does.

He keeps his arms folded as he stares at the radio console in front of him. The time flickers through broken LED bulbs, twitching and disappearing until Max can’t even read the numbers. It feels like forever that he’s been sitting in the backseat, alone and constrained by his seatbelt, until David is back, tapping his finger on the window with a smile. It’s not quite the same as usual, and it’s an effort that Max knows must take more energy than its worth.

With a sigh, Max unbuckles his seatbelt and crawls across the middle console so he can unlock the doors. His eyes connect with David’s as he does so, and he’s curious as to whether things are always going to feel as forced as they do now. Before he can sit and buckle himself up properly, David is patting the passenger seat with a soft hand, eyes expectant.

Max tells himself that he’s only doing it to make David feel better.

“Now, Max, I know today has been… unorthodox… but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little bit of fun!” Max doesn’t provide a response, so David takes this as his cue to begin digging in the shopping bag that now sits in his lap. “I bought a few things to keep you occupied on the drive home.” _Home._ “I’ve got some activity books, and some crayons, and ooh! I even bought you some soda. It’s not good to make a habit out of it, but I think that today is perfect for a cheat day.”

The whole situation is unsettling. The way David is so casual about this… It’s almost as if they’re simply on a drive out to town, except this time Neil and Nikki are gone and he’s not in trouble. No, this time Max is alone and there’s nobody to bail him out—nobody to take the blame for everything he did wrong. Instead he’s the only one with David. He’s the forced lone wolf, the runt of the pack.

It’s not even like Max has a burning hatred for David, one that makes him despise his new living situation. After their heart to heart on parents day, and after the months of legal complications that lead up to this day, Max has learned that David really isn’t that bad. Yeah, he’s annoying and over enthusiastic and way too dramatic, but those are all traits that are far more preferable than the harsh tones of his father and the quiet ignorance of his mother. Their personalities tend to clash more often than not, but there’s no resentment at the end of the day.

Still, it doesn’t mean he isn’t allowed to feel some semblance of regret for the way things turned out.

Max buckles his seatbelt and leans his head against the door. The handle presses into him uncomfortably and the seatbelt looms above him, providing no protection at all, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

David places the soda in his lap, throwing the rest of the items into the back seat.

“Well… You can hold onto that for now,” he says. As he adjusts the rearview mirror, David lets out a sigh. “We’ll be home in a few hours.”

Max grimaces.

David’s phone vibrates and a shrill _ding_ erupts from its speaker, but he makes no move for it. Figures he’d be a stickler on safety. Max spares a glance down at the screen and rolls his eyes when he sees the texts that arrived.

 

> **CBFL ♡:** them boys HOT
> 
> **CBFL ♡:** fuck wrong chat lol
> 
> **CBFL ♡:** idk but good luck w ur kid

 

Max wonders if it’s too late to go back with his parents.

 

* * *

 

“You already know this, but there’s your room,” David says with a flourish. His bandana, tied tightly around his wrist, sways as he gestures toward the door left ajar. His signature smile is back, present without any sign of faulting, and it drives Max insane. “I’m not quite sure that we’ve got everything from your house, but that’s nothing we can’t fix with a few shopping trips.”

Max kicks his shoes off through the doorway . They fly across the room, thudding against the frame of his bed before dropping unceremoniously. David doesn’t seem too pleased with that maneuver, but he doesn’t comment on it.

“Uhm… I need to go to the store, so if you—”

Max shakes his head and backpedals into the room. Shoulders hunched, brows furrowed, and hands shoved in the pockets of his sweater, Max is sure he looks the very definition of an ungrateful brat. It’s not like he means to act like this—not today—but the disbelief and realization of his surroundings settles into his core, replacing the marrow in his bones with nothing but disorientation and an overwhelming numbness.

It seems that David picks up on that as well, for he doesn’t persist in aiming to cheer Max up. That’s something Max is thankful for, though he’d only admit it through gritted teeth.

“Don’t open the door for anyone, and try not to make too much of a mess, okay?” David picks his hand up as if he were going to ruffle Max’s hair, but he thinks better of it and instead rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Things are gonna get better, Max. I’m sure of it.”

David gives a weak cough before turning around and grabbing his keys from the hook next to the door. It’s silent once he leaves, a weird sort of quiet that can’t compare to the stillness of the wild. There’s no tweeting of birds to distract Max, no rustling of squirrels in the trees to keep his thoughts at bay. It’s just him, here in David’s home, alone.

In many ways, being here should have been a blessing. After all, David was gone, off doing his own thing in the real world, and here Max was with all of his personal belongings. There were no adults to reprimand him, no nosy social workers to shadow him. Being here in David’s apartment was like being in a blackmail goldmine.

Except, once again, Max finds himself straying from those immature thoughts.

This is his life now. This is who he’s staying with for the next eight or so years. Max can’t help but laugh. He’s being thrown into the hands of someone he’d been trying to get away from during his whole summer, and it’s all because his parents had been trying to get away from _him._ He wonders how long it’ll take for David to leave, too.

He’s sure that he’s going to be thrown out any day. He and David have spent plenty of time together, both at camp and during supervised visits, so Max knows that they can actually get along quite well, but it all boils down to one thing: Max is an _asshole_. There’s nothing that he knows better than the fact that he’s an annoying kid who can’t keep his mouth shut. He yells and swears and causes trouble, and all for what? For attention? For someone to get upset with him so he can feel some semblance of a nuclear familial relationship? He doesn’t know the specifics, fears that he never will, but there’s no doubting the certainty that he does it because it’s all he knows. He’s grown up with a rebellious heart, always aiming for mischief, so it’s all he can resort to at the end of the day.

Sometimes, it feels like being an annoyance is all he is.

 

* * *

 

 It takes nearly two hours for David to come back, and Max would be an absolute liar to say that he wasn’t growing more anxious as the minutes ticked by. With each second that passed, Max would wonder if he wasn’t being abandoned right now—if David wasn’t scheming his escape this very moment. It was ludicrous to even entertain the thought, Max knew that, but he couldn’t help himself.

“I hope you weren’t too lonely while I was gone!” Max bites back his tongue, not wanting to disrupt David this early. “I bought you some school supplies and a few shirts and socks! Hopefully that’ll be enough for the upcoming weeks.” David digs through the shopping bags that are set down on the table, not raising his eyes as he sorts the items.

“Thanks,” he mutters. His voice is low, something quiet and soft and Max doesn’t want to hear himself sound so small ever again.

“Pardon?” David looks over with hesitance, eyebrows knitted together as a smile crosses his face, though it wavers and he doesn’t show his teeth.

Max doesn’t respond. He turns his head down and walks over to the opposite end of the kitchen table, climbing into a chair so he can rest his chin on the table’s surface. He reaches out for a pencil case and looks it over, eyes droopy as he examines the design. It’s a deep blue color with lighter diamonds sewn onto the cloth. He’s just grateful David didn’t get him anything too over the top.

“Well, as I was saying, I’m sure everything is going to work out well enough,” David continues. “The school agreed that you should get some time off before attending class, so you’ll start next week.” Max rests his forehead on the table. “I actually think you’ll be going to the same school as one of the other campers! I’m sure it’d be wonderful to see a familiar face there.”

Max remains silent.

“Max? Are you… still not feeling well?”

For the first time in quite a while, Max opens his mouth for longer than a second. “Oh, I’m just fucking _peachy_.” He closes his eyes, nose inhaling the sharp scent of the wooden table beneath him. He’s pretty sure David carved the damn thing.

“Things are certainly unconventional right now, but I assure you that you’ll feel better soon,” David sighs. “I’m here to make you happy, you know. This is what you wanted, right? To be with me?”

“Yeah, because I’d love to spend every day with _you_ of all people.” Fuck. “As cute as your enthusiasm is—” _fuck, fuck, fuck,_ “—there’s no way I’d choose to be here of my own free will.” Max bites back the tears that begin to well up. “You’re never going to be my Dad, so why the fuck does any of this matter?”

The room is quiet during the following moments. Max focuses on the sound of the air conditioning blowing throughout the apartment. He listens to the sound of cars outside and the stomping of the people who live upstairs and the squeaking of the rooms that he can’t pinpoint an origin to. He doesn’t listen to the way David’s breath hitches.

“I know you’re stressed, Max,” David chokes out. “So I won’t take any of that to heart. You… My goal here isn’t to be your father. Whether I like it or not, I know he’s still important to you, just like your mother is, too. I’m here to give you a better life than they could, because they obviously had no intentions of raising you from the start.” David pauses to take a breath and presses a hand to his face. “And though I want to be as much of a friend to you as I can, I also have to be a guardian and tell you to please sit in your room until you can come out with more composure.”

Max looks up at David, focused on the redness that pricks at the man’s eyes and the tightening of his throat.

“Go to your room, Max.”

The boy nods and slides off his chair. As he passes David he debates on apologizing to him, but he knows the words won’t come out right anyway, so he does as he’s told and slinks into bed.

Before he forces himself to sleep, his eyes catch the soda bottle David gifted him earlier. It sits on his desk, unopened and unshaken.

 

* * *

 

This is stupid. This is so _fucking_ stupid.

Max wonders why he’s even doing this.

Except, he doesn’t wonder for very long, since he can still feel the guilt weighing down on him, forcing him lower and lower so he’s unable to go anywhere near his bedroom door. With every glance he takes toward the doorknob he hurriedly whips his head back down, eyes trained on the sloppily colored construction paper he found in his closet. Max almost feels bad for tearing into the crayons David had bought him months ago, but he throws the hesitation away and he remembers the man bought him a new pack anyway.

He freezes when he looks at the tube of glitter before him.

Without a moment’s thought, Max squeezes out a design with some liquid glue, centering it directly in the middle of the paper. He sprinkles some glitter atop it, eyes wide as he watches it dry. He doesn’t think it’ll dry for at least an hour, but he doesn’t have an hour to waste, so he blows on it with a harsh breath. Some specks fly off.

Max decides to leave it alone, lest he ruin the work he’s spent so much time on. (No, the minutes were not spent trying to craft each and every line delicately, ensuring perfection. Instead, Max spent a good majority of his time debating on if he _really_ wanted to go through with this. His apprehension shows in the sloppily drawn letters. Fuck it.)

The paper, a cream colored piece of construction paper, is no bigger than that of a spiral notebook’s contents. It’s heavy, hefted down by the mass of glue and glitter he’s dumped on it. The edges are outlined in red crayon, two lines framing the perimeter of the makeshift poster. At the top are the words, “SORRY DAVID. MY BAD.” The bottom also holds some script reading, “ITS NOT YOUR FAULT ~~THAT IM A SHITHEAD~~ ” Max can only hope that the glitter pine tree in the middle of the paper will make this apology better.

Max gingerly picks up the paper and walks toward his door with heavy steps. His hand pauses on the doorknob, taking in the chill of its surface, before he turns it. The door creaks open loudly, and any thoughts of sneaking around seem to be destroyed. He sighs and takes a big step outside of his room, head down as he heads toward the living room area. It’s a few feet away from his room, but the path he takes feels like nothing more than an inch. All of a sudden he’s there too fast, arms holding out the paper as he stares at David’s feet. He doesn’t make any move to get up from the couch, and for that Max is grateful. He doesn’t want a height disadvantage to make him feel even smaller.

“Max, did you make this?” He can’t discern the emotion present in David’s voice, but he bites back the quip of _“Well who else would’ve done it?”_ in fear of setting him off again. When David takes the paper from his hands, Max hastily shoves them in the pockets of his sweater.

“Sorry for acting like such a prick,” he mumbles. “You didn’t deserve that… And it wasn’t polite, I guess.” Max sniffs, though there’s no snot blocking his airways, so he’s hit with a rush of air that stings toward the top of his nose.

“You didn’t have to go through all of this,” David says softly. “I know you’re stressed—”

“Sorry again, but _fuck that_ , David,” Max spits out. He lifts his head up to look his guardian in the eyes, now realizing that the quiet acceptance from seconds before has been replaced with mild shock. “Just because I’m moody doesn’t mean I get to be an asshole to you. Not right now, at least. I’m just... frustrated!” At this, Max brings one hand up to thread in his hair, eyes shooting down to stare at David’s knees. “Of course I don’t want to be here. You’re not my dad! You’re not my mom! You’re my fucking _camp counselor_ who I only used to see during the summer. What kind of kid wants this?”

David remains silent.

“I _want_ to be with my parents. I want them to want _me!_ I don’t have anything against being with you, but I just wish I didn’t have to be here.” His eyes sting and there’s a familiar wetness that rolls down his cheeks, leaving cold trails as the air blows against him. His tone shifts down, eerily calm as he speaks with a broken voice. “I want to go _home_.”

Chest heaving, Max turns himself around and rubs at his eyes. He can’t keep them open, for they’re too absorbed with tears. His eyebrows quiver and his mouth trembles as he tries to shut himself up.

David stands up slowly, creeping toward Max with his arms outstretched, but the boy jumps away from any contact.

“I’m fine,” he croaks out. “Just leave me alone.”

For once, David doesn’t listen.

The two are wordless as David wraps his arms around Max, chin resting on his shoulders. Max wants to throw him off—wants to shove him away and scream until David is crying instead—but he can’t bring himself to keep up his act. He lets himself cry and hiccup until he can’t feel the tears coming anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> lol uhhhh chap 2 is gonna be a major shift so no more emo max
> 
> also hmu im amanoyuqiteru on tumblr and @jyushikos on twitter


End file.
